


Father's Day

by Gangstertogangster



Category: Luke Cage (TV)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Father's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gangstertogangster/pseuds/Gangstertogangster
Summary: Just like the title says. I like random holiday fics so I went for it.
Relationships: Shades Alvarez/Mariah Dillard
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Father's Day

Father’s Day was a holiday neither Hernan nor Mariah had ever really observed. Mariah had very few memories of her own father, and too many of the father figure she did have in Uncle Pete. 

Tilda would write poems and draw pictures for Jackson, the man she thought was her dad. Mariah responded with overly sweet smiles, let her mail the letters and pictures to “heaven”. She encouraged celebrating Jackson, but she also preferred to be alone, not dwell on Tilda with too many reminders of who her real father was. Father’s Day always depressed her. She didn’t want Tilda to feel the same way, but now, now that Tilda knew, it was too late. 

Hernan’s father was an abusive alcoholic. It was always best when he wasn’t home. Hernan found comfort over with tias and tios on his mom’s side, or asking Mama Mabel for protection from his dad if things did get too hard to ignore for him or his mother. Darius’ father was dead, so Hernan couldn’t borrow his best friend’s. There were few people he could count on, let alone consider fatherly. 

Neither of them ever considered actually celebrating Father’s Day. Then they adopted Honor. Mariah wanted that feeling, that bonding that came with seeing your child for the first time. It was hard, knowing she didn’t give birth. But she never had that connection with Tilda, never got to. She felt like she was making a mistake when she saw Honor. But Hernan held her shoulders, rubbed them, said to her, “That’s our girl.” So they held Honor together. Then Mariah really began to look the baby girl in her eyes, she felt something she was pretty sure was real. It wasn’t like all the baby kissing she did as a politician, this was something else. This was _her daughter._

The first Father’s Day, Mariah got a cake. She didn’t know what else to do. She got them all reservations for brunch but Honor cried for most of it. Mariah instinctively winced at baby tears but watching Hernan soothe Honor and talk baby talk to her melted her heart. And if people at other tables commented amongst one another, Mariah shot them dirty looks. 

They went for a walk in the park, Honor in the stroller. Mariah felt awkward about it at first, but she still felt an earnest pride, walking with her husband and youngest daughter. People would stare, but Mariah didn’t pay them any mind. She wasn’t trying to win their vote. She was spending time with her family. She felt a little guilty upon thinking, in the back of her mind, that this was technically brilliant for political image. Mama Harlem indeed. 

It helped that she could point to Hernan and say, “That’s your daddy, baby girl. He’s right there.” It helped that Hernan could assure Mariah, hold her up, tell Honor, “That’s your mama.” 

She was nervous during the early years of Honor’s life, she never had any practice with babies since Cornell was dropped off on the doorstep, but Hernan was there every step of the way, taking over when she got too overwhelmed. 

How was that damn gutter-gangster such a model husband and father? That question crossed Mariah’s mind quite a bit. 

But the way he grinned when he played with her, read to her, sang to her off-key, those things made the messiness of raising a baby a little bit better. She was more or less ready to be a mom, and he was fitting into the father role seamlessly. 

Mariah kept buying Hernan cards since she liked the beauty and simplicity of a locally-bought and designed card she could just pay for and write some extra words on. But the homemade ones Honor made were what truly made him beam. Eventually Honor began asking Mariah to help her make cards. Mariah at first refused, she was no artist, but she liked using the crayons and markers, actually helping her daughter. She liked coloring in the scribbled messy flowers Honor drew, making them all neat and orderly. Honor would get impatient, making Mariah a little annoyed since she wanted to keep coloring. But she eventually learned to relinquish the markers when Honor said “Mami! Mami! It’s DONE!” 

This latest Father’s Day, Honor was eight. Hernan’s eyes lit up when he saw Honor running into his and Mariah’s bedroom. Honor had been looking forward to cooking everyone breakfast this time. Mariah prohibited breakfast in bed. Honor was sad about it each time she pleaded and got shot down. Mariah told Honor to just put the food on the table. She jumped into bed with her parents and hugged her papi tight. Mariah groaned, but she smiled despite herself. The bed did feel better with their kid in it. 

Mariah fumbled for her iphone on the nightstand. She found it, picked it up, snapped a few pictures of her man and baby girl. 

Honor learned not to call Tilda. Tilda, she was told, often got sick around this time of year. And Honor learned not to follow up with, “But I thought she was a doctor…” 

She still whined today, “Can we at least facetime? Can I at least text her?” 

Mariah sternly said, “No, Honor. You can text her tomorrow. Don’t try to talk to her today.” 

When Honor began to cry, Mariah felt a little bad. Hernan scooped Honor up and said, “Hey, mami, it’s all good, we can still call her tomorrow.” 

Honor sniffled, “I wish I could find a medicine that she could take so she didn’t keep getting sick on Father’s Day.” 

Hernan nodded and gently said, “Hey, let’s just not talk about that, OK?” 

Honor nodded. Mariah leaned over, stroked her cheek. She wiped away some of the tears. 

Honor had made them all scrambled eggs. She did a great job for an eight year old, even using heavy cream for richness. She made a fruit salad with haphazardly chopped fruits. 

Mariah and Hernan smiled as they ate their food, not even needing to lie or pretend the food was really that good. Mariah felt a little bit guilty for not getting up to make Hernan eggs herself. 

Mariah smiled, “Great work, sweetie.” 

“Thanks mami,” Honor said, “Alex helped me with the stove, he watched and stuff. I didn’t let him help me cook.” 

“As long as he kept you safe,” Mariah answered. 

Hernan cleared his throat. Mariah rolled her eyes. 

Mariah said, “Darling, I got you a present too.” 

Honor’s eyes widened. She cried, “What is it??” 

Hernan said, “We’ll find out soon, mami.”

Mariah got up from the table, went upstairs. When she got back down, she had in her hands a wrapped present. She handed it to him, giving his shoulders a little rub before she sat back down. He got up to go wash his hands, since he didn’t want to get it all greasy. 

After he gently undid the wrapping, he went over and gave her a nice kiss, one that quickly led into another one. 

Honor stuck her tongue out, said, “Get a room.” 

Mariah gave her a warning look, and Honor shut up though she kept giggling. Hernan laughed too. He blushed. 

Honor asked, “What did you get, papi?” 

Hernan smiled, “Yankees season tickets, for right behind the dugout.” 

Honor gaped, “Wow, really???” 

Mariah smiled. “I got two of them, one for you and him, or for…”

“For Tio Darius???” Honor asked. 

Mariah grimaced. 

Hernan instantly said to Honor, noticing his wife’s changing demeanor, “Hey, mami, how about you go get ready for the day?” 

She groaned but ran up the stairs anyway. 

Mariah glowered. She said sternly, “I’m not talking about this.” 

Hernan frowned. He said, “Hey, it’s just gonna be me and her.”

Mariah said, impatient, “I got them for you and for him.” 

Hernan looked at her, stunned. 

“Don’t make me sorry I paid for the extra.”

Hernan went up to her, embraced her, whispered, “I got you. And I don’t want a gift if it’ll hurt you.” 

Mariah scoffed. She said, “Whatever. I asked Che for help. He said to get you a ticket. I got soft and made it two.” 

Hernan nodded, unsure. 

Mariah added, “But you owe me ten favors.” 

Hernan let out an exasperated sigh, but he leaned in and kissed her. When Honor came back downstairs, all dressed, she saw her parents making out and instantly gagged. They both noticed and broke the kiss, Mariah scolding Honor not to be rude. 


End file.
